Paul Kidd - Descent into the Depths of the Earth

“Ewww!” Blood, bat dung, mildew, and beholder fluids hadwreaked havoc with her grooming. “We have to get that hell hound back and get mea bath!”

Running dazedly in pursuit, Private Henry blundered toward Escalla. Weighed down by chainmail and carrying his crossbow, the boy screeched to a halt and folded over with a stitch, too crippled by exhaustion to make any meaningful comment. He waved a hand at the beholder, wheezing something as he tried to catch his breath. Bruised, battered, but triumphant, Escalla slapped her hands, gave the boy a thumbs up and turned to view her prize.

“Knocked ’im out!”

The beholder had been paralyzed by drugs provided courtesy of the drow. The monster lay with its eyestalks stiff and staring into blank space. Escalla gave it a kick in what should have been its side, closed its upper eye stalks for it, then pranced and posed up and down in front of the creature’s onemain eye. She slapped her backside in its torn silks for the monster’sdelectation.

“Ha! Here it is, faerie butt, primo, perfect, untouchedprime!” Escalla put her bottom almost between the monster’s jaws. “Oh all right,you can eat me! Ooops! Paralyzed! What a shame!” The girl turned a pirouette andended up leaning casually on the huge carnivorous sphere. “I’m so hot! I mayhave to start donating my old clothes to temple shrines!”

Peering over the top of the monster, Private Henry seemed a tad confused.

“My lady?”

“Quiet, kid! I’m having a moment, here!”

Collapsing to sit on the stump of a shattered stalagmite, Henry could only sit in a daze and stare at the monster.

“So this was part of the plan?”

“Part one of a beautiful plan!” Escalla lounged atop theangry beholder. “Flawless execution, kid! It’s a joy to behold!”

“Are we ready to go yet?”

“Almost!” Escalla happily patted the paralyzed beholder. “Iguess we’ve got at least three hours before ol’ friendly here begins to wake up,so let’s get this show on the road!” She patted the beholder’s armored hide.“Grand Rescue Plan phase one: First, catch your beholder!”

Phase two was perhaps a tad less structured than phase one.Still, it held a certain amount of promise. Escalla unshipped one of her magic lights and left Private Henry watching nervously from afar as she drifted carefully back into the cavern of dead ghouls.

The ghouls had been very concerned with tossing objects down into the pit at the center of the cave. Escalla shined her light down into the pit and saw a rough stone chimney shaft that dwindled hundreds of feet down into the darkness below. The girl took a brief look about the cave making sure that the ghouls were definitely dead, then jumped down the shaft.

The shaft was only two feet wide-too small for any normalhumanoid to scale. With her frost wand on guard, Escalla whirred carefully down one hundred feet, then two, then three. Big orange fungi jutting from the walls showed wounds where something falling from above had ploughed through the fleshy plants. Finally the faerie saw her light shining on an open space below. She stopped herself at the threshold, peering into a surprisingly attractive little cave.

Huge toadstools fully ten feet tall stood beneath the shaft. Beneath them, bones had been spread nicely about the place, thoroughly picked clean. Bumbling around among the bones was a strange creature the size of a large dog-a creature with long feelers and a tail tipped with apaddlelike-blade.

Escalla felt quite pleased.

“Oooo! Rust monster!”

The monster in question was standing upon its hind legs and trying to reach something caught atop one of the toadstools. Escalla looked carefully below, saw a sheathed sword wrapped in rags lying half impaled into a toadstool cap, and then fluttered into the cave.

The rust monster was friendly enough. Swooping down, Escalla gave the rust monster a pat on its head. It craned upward and petted her with its feelers, seeking a taste of metal. Disappointed, the rust monster abandoned her and went back to clumsily trying to reach the toadstool top.

Escalla beat him to it. She flew up and landed beside the sword, walking around and around it with a proprietal glee. It was long and heavy-a sword of the kind the Justicar seemed to like. The sheath had beenpainted bright colors, and the sword had been wrapped in the torn and bloodied banner of a nobleman. Escalla tossed the rags aside, took a good look at her prize, and rubbed her hands together in satisfaction.

Long rust monster feelers came probing over the edge of the toadstool, and Escalla irritably kicked them away.

“Scram! Go on!”

Time was wasting. Escalla decided to free the sword and get it back upstairs where it could be put to use, but in tugging the weapon free from the toadstool, she almost gave herself a hernia. With a blade almost twice as long as she was tall, the sword was heavy enough to crush Escalla flat.

“This thing weighs a ton!” The girl kicked petulantly at thesword and hurt her foot. “Trust me to find a fat sword!”

I should hardly think anyone smeared in hat dung was in aposition to he insulting!

The voice had the prim, lofty tone of a school Ma’am. Escallawhipped about, scratching her bottom with one hand while pointing her wand with the other.

“All right, who’s the loud mouth with the death wish?”

It is I. Words seemed to form in Escalla’s mind-a phenomenon familiar toanyone who normally hung out with sentient hell hound skins. And kindly refrain from scratching yourself like that in public!

The sword was shivering slightly in Escalla’s grasp,irritating her skin and making a slight humming noise. The faerie sighed and turned a world-wise eye upon the blade.

“Oh goody. Talking cutlery with an etiquette fetish.”

It costs very little to keep up standards. The swordseemed to sniff in prim disdain. You seem a tad young to be wandering on your own. Does your father know you dress like that in public?

“Yeah! Dung stains and skin abrasions are all the rage thisyear!” Escalla sat down and glared at the sword. “So Spiky, what’s your story!”

With enormous dignity, the sword cleared its throat. Had it been a mortal, it would have placed spectacles upon its nose. I am the sword Benelux.

“Beni-what?” Escalla scratched between her antennae.

Benelux! It is an onomatopoeic word from the old Flannic tongue, derivative of -The sword suddenly made an irritated noise. Itdoesn’t matter! In any case, I am an enchanted blade, lost here through theworthless incompetence of my subordinates.

Escalla drolly rested her chin in her hand as she sat. “Meaning your owner you lost a fight and got pasted.”

If you must put it so crudely… yes.

Annoyed by the sword, Escalla slipped into sarcasm as her first, best defense against authority. “So who was your owner? Who pasted him,and what’s your claim to fame?”

I don’t reveal my powers to just anyone who asks. Thesword gave a superior little snort. I am the weapon of champions! I am not for the use of any scruffy, winged little vagabond who happens to go past.

“Well, that’s all right.” Escalla gave a shrug and beganhauling the weapon over to the edge of the toadstool. “We’re kinda encumberedright now, anyway. I don’t think we have much room in the party for a sword whofailed at sword fighting.” As the rust monster pranced happily down below,Escalla dragged the sword closer to the toadstool’s brim. “Can’t just leave youto fret and die, though. Kindest to get it over quickly, I guess.”

No! The sword squealed in fright. I can be useful!